


Sanders Sides One-Shots

by jadedragonfly



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: And angsty, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, i have a couple real short things let me know if i should post those as well, i'm just copying and pasting them from where they're posted on tumblr, tagging relationships is tiring but I'll have it in the chapter titles, these are mostly logan-centric, unlikely to be updated in the near future
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-12-26 01:13:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18272780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadedragonfly/pseuds/jadedragonfly
Summary: See title (it's a pretty generic one, isn't it. But it's accurate)And see tags as well.If you have an idea for me to write, it's 50/50 that I'll actually do it, but hey, I'd love comments/ideas :)





	1. Horror Movie (platonic analogical)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for @sanderssidesspooks on tumblr (their month of spooky-ish prompts last october)  
> Warnings: screaming, being scared, not really anything else– I’ve never really seen a horror movie so no details

Virgil grudgingly removed his headphones at the knock on the door. “What is it?”

“It’s Logan. Do you think I could come in?” came the voice through the mahogany wood. The door had been added to the main hallway at Patton’s request after Virgil started getting more used to being a part of their famILY.

“Sure.” The teacher stepped inside, giving a grimace as he motioned out to where Virgil could hear the two right brain traits laughing about something from all the way downstairs. “They were being a bit too much..my apologies for disturbing you.”

“It’s fine.” Virgil decided to take pity on the formal side and refrained from adding a ‘dude.’ “At least you knocked and didn’t just barge in like the others usually do. Though I have to ask, wouldn’t you have rather been alone?”

Logan came to sit on the bed, pink grazing his cheeks. “I have to admit, I enjoy your company. Besides,” he added, “I finished a very good book today, and I don’t quite know what to do with myself.”

Virgil flopped down onto his back. “I’ve been bored too. So what should we do then?”

A minute of contemplation that got them nowhere passed before they glanced toward Virgil’s laptop at seemingly the same time. “More conspiracy theory videos?”

“I…think there might be none we haven’t seen.” What, they’d only spent a _few_ nights this past month up late, sucked in to youtube.

(Okay, it was more than a few nights. But it turned out it was something they both enjoyed. Logan would figure out how likely the conspiracies were to be true, Virgil would have an existential crisis, and in the morning they would exchange tired glances as they downed their caffeinated tea. Bonding.)

Logan’s eyes glowed a faint blue for a second as he got an idea.

“It’s close to Halloween…does your laptop have movies?”

The anxious trait knew instantly what Logan was thinking. “Do we really want to watch a horror movie?”

“I’ve never seen one,” Logan admitted. “Thomas has stayed away from them–”

“Thankfully,” Virgil muttered.

“–and I have to admit they intrigue me. Based on collected data, I believe movies are better to watch with other people, so I’ve never watched one on my own.”

“I started a Stephen King movie once and I couldn’t even finish it, but sure, sounds fun.”

They spent a few minutes trying to figure out what they wanted to watch– “I’m ruling out Stephen King, because you’ve read all the books so you’d know what’s going to happen and have an advantage.” “Fair enough. I doubt I’m going to get too scared anyway but–“ “Hey, I can’t freak out alone. Now we gotta find a really creepy one. If you don’t get scared the whole experience will be ruined. And we’re staying in my room, too”– before settling on one and placing themselves on the floor to watch it.

The emo side lay on his stomach and pulled it up on Netflix. Logan carefully sat down and crossed his legs, wondering for a second how Virgil could be comfortable until he got pulled down in the same position by Virgil, who then snapped his fingers to turn off the lights.

“Ready?”

Nod.

Click.

They spent the first while watching in mostly silence, occasionally making fun of the over-exaggerated romance or cliche backdrops, but it was overall a well done movie and found both of them internally shivering whenever they caught something purposefully slightly…off in a scene, getting caught up in the building tension(though Logan grudgingly).

Then it started to get scary. Real scary.

—

Downstairs, Patton and Roman had popped up to say hello to Thomas, and they started chatting about video ideas.

“Getting something out on Halloween would be cool–“

“That would be MARVELOUS!” Roman agreed.

“But,” Thomas started to continue, before getting interrupted by an excited exclamation from Patton. “We could do costumes and then guess who’s who! Or if you didn’t want to do a Sanders Sides–”

“Oh my-a Angelou, you could do a cover of This is Halloween! Even Virgil would agree to that!”

“Guys! Let’s–“

“Or a trick-or-treating vlog!”

“Or–”

Thomas clapped, loudly. “Hey. Can we bring in Logan and Virgil? I think you guys might be getting a little over excited…I would appreciate some balance to this conversation.”

Roman pouted but gave a summoning motion towards Logan’s spot.

“Maybe he’s in Virgil’s room,” Patton suggested, when the logical side didn’t appear.

“I don’t see why he would be. –Oof, that sounded mean, I didn’t mean it like that, I swear.” Roman gestured in an upwards motion, and this time, it worked.

Which was sort of unfortunate timing, since back with the two left brains, a jumpscare had caused Logan to let out a loud curse as Virgil’s reflexes kicked in and he flung the laptop away from them, just as they popped into the real-world living room.

Thomas ducked just in time. “I am so done with these flying computers, guys, I swear–”

Virgil and Logan looked up in spooked alarm at the change in surrounding. They were now huddled close together, a blanket around them for extra protection. (It felt safe at the time, though it must be made known that fabric actually isn’t that good of a defensive item.)

“Um…do we want to know,” said Roman carefully, as tinny screams came from the fallen laptop.

Virgil squinted his eyes against the sudden bright lights. “Come on, we were just at a good part.”

“What’s your definition of good, because your voice is shaking right now.”

Patton peered at the upside down screen before shuddering. “Ew ew ew!”

“We were just watching a horror movie,” Logan said (in a voice quite different than he usually had since internally he was still screaming with fear.)

Thomas reached down and closed the computer, and you could practically see Logan and Virgil’s tense shoulders relaxing in relief as the sound finally shut off.

“Are you kiddos gonna be okay?”

“Of course, soon we’ll be acclimated to the relative calm and safety of reality again. In any case, fear is illogical.”

Virgil allowed himself a snicker. “Huh, that’s strange, Logic, because you were definitely afraid.”

“Well, yes, and I don’t think I’m going to be able to sleep tonight, but–“

Virgil started laughing(though it might have been a bit hysterical).

“Okay, well,” said Thomas, deciding as he often did when it came to his personality that the best course of action might be to push the situation in a more sane direction, “we were just talking about videos for Halloween. I’m guessing a horror movie react is out of the question?”

Two normally calmer voices gave a yelped “YEP.” (And no, neither slept that night…they might’ve finished the movie and then sat staring at the wall in paralyzed fear til dawn came, but shh.)


	2. Logan angst/resolve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan likes to say ey doesn't care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this is even understandable the way the lines are set up oof. It's sort of meant to flow between, for eg, one section of non-italics to the next section of non-italics, etc. It was fun to write anyway
> 
> I used gender neutral pronouns for Logan and Remy, let me know if I’ve messed the usage up at all!

Logan likes to say ey doesn’t care.

_Ey finds the concept of apathy, in a sort of twisted way, comforting._

  
If Logan tells emself ey doesn’t care, it will become true.

_Ey sinks into the depths of eir own mind, rooting out anything that is not pure thought; anything that resembles emotion._

If Logan tells the others ey doesn’t care, they will believe it.

_Ey finds safety in eir room, in eir work. If ey doesn’t leave either ey will be okay._

They don’t believe it.

_Ey locks the door so that ey will never be tempted to leave, to join again people and a world that’s so much more than eir one necessary goal: do what is best for Thomas._

Thomas doesn’t believe it either.

_Ey considers the possibility of just..slipping away. Ey finds emself more and more taking trips to the subconscious, falling back into how ey used to operate before Thomas encouraged his own personality to manifest._

Patton finds himself standing outside Logan’s door for most of a day before Roman leads him away.

_Ey hasn’t spoken for weeks; ey appreciates how the silence is numbing, lacking room for misinterpretation, for ambiguity at all, for anything other than what is already there._

The next night finds Roman there too.

_The closest Logan gets to feeling emotion at this point is a small sliver of panic creeping down eir spine when ey realizes the option of speech has faded altogether for em._

Logan’s family is panicking, falling apart.

_But ey manages to pull emself together and keep maintaining Thomas’s common sense, even when a part of em deep down starts muttering that ey’s lost eirs._

Remy finds them all, and xe sets down the fourth starbuck’s cup xe had brought and goes off to find the person xe had gotten it for– xe knows xyr way around the subconscious, after all.

_Logan tells emself it is because of eir lost voice that ey doesn’t protest when Remy leads em back._

_Logan tells emself it is because of the lack of discernable color in the subconscious that everything seems just a little brighter and more real, more..okay, when ey enters the House once more and sees the others._

_Logan doesn’t know what to tell emself when ey starts crying as arms wrap around them._

_When warmth seems to wrap itself around eir very soul._

_When something seems to shift back into place inside of em._

_But if Logan tells emself ey doesn’t care, ey won’t have to think about any of that._

If Logan tells emself ey doesn’t care, ey will believe it.

      They tell Logan it will be okay, but they don’t know if that will come true.

For the first time, ey knows to not believe it.

       It comes true.


	3. Analogical fluff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on this post https://anxiousprincedad.tumblr.com/post/178797388624/dude-could-you-imagine-like-virgil-is-this-huge

Virgil lounges in his chair, examining his chipped black nails as he absorbs the interviewer’s questions. He has to admit he doesn’t like being on TV too much, but it can be fun to do these interviews, and play with the fans a bit–take now, for example, when he decides to finally respond to a much-asked question with a casual “Yeah, I’m in a relationship.”  
He’s not surprised when, the next day, his corner of social media is blowing up– he’s always been a fairly private person, regardless of the fact that one could consider him famous. Virgil could spend hours scrolling through this stuff– it’s like a conspiracy theory video but better because these theories about the mystery partner are so far from the truth it’s funny– but he’s pulled away from the phone when, speak of the devil, Logan finally gets home from work.  
“Lots of papers to grade again?”  
“Yes, my apologies that I arrived home so late. I did manage to catch that interview on my lunch break, however.” Virgil can feel himself internally melting at the quirked smile on his boyfriend’s lips. Externally, he just walks over to the kitchen and pulls the nerd in for a kiss, simultaneously grabbing the coffee pot from behind Logan.  
“It’s ten at night, set that down–”  
Virgil holds eye contact as he chugs the pot, still half full from the afternoon’s batch, in defiance.  
Logan chooses to ignore this display of what their friend Roman would call, an “act of bravery, bordering on stupidity.” “Are you ever going to actually say who I am?”  
“Wasn’t planning to.”  
They share a smile– they prefer to keep their careers away from the secret, stress-free side of their lives, aka each other.  
***  
It’s the next week. Logan watches in amusement as his boyfriend collapses on the bed after a concert. “God, I’m tired,” the rockstar says hoarsely.  
Logan brings over a mug of tea, knowing that while Virgil may need to live off of his caffeinated coffee, jasmine tea is the favored drink. He smiles at the appreciative gaze.  
“A student asked me today if I was a fan of you, she saw my phone wallpaper.”  
“What did you say?” laughs Virgil.  
“I said ‘Something like that.’ Someday they’ll know. Until then, I prefer to let them suffer in their blatant ignorance.”  
“Speaking of people suffering in ignorance and confusion,” Virgil pulls his Twitter page up on his phone, “I’m enjoying watching everyone trying to figure this out.” Logan reads his boyfriend’s most recent post, not able to hold back a snort.  
 _So many of you have been wondering about who I’m in a relationship with, but I have to admit, sometimes it seems like he loves his Crofter’s jelly more than he loves me. #notsponsored_  
***  
A few months later Virgil’s back with the same dark-haired interviewer whom he’s actually quite grown to like. “Well, Joan,” he grins, “I actually have some news about–”  
“Mystery guy?” they exclaim hopefully. “You’ve kept us in the dark for so long, it’s not quite fair, don’t you think?”  
“Actually…yeah. And as of yesterday, we’re engaged, so it’s probably about time.”  
“Dude!”  
“Dude.” They high-five.  
“Who proposed?” is Joan’s first question.  
“Hey now, that’s a story for another time. I’ve got to keep some secrets, right? Anyway, I hope you’ll be content and stop badgering me if I show you a picture?”  
Virgil can almost feel the gasps coming from every viewer as he taps a few things on his phone. He leans foward, feeling his pulse beating hard as Joan carefully takes the phone for a closer look. He resists the urge to fidget anxiously with something(his anxiety giving him a need to fidget is the real reason behind the chipped nails and the torn jeans, actually)– though he’s not too sue what he’s so nervous about.  
The photo is one of his favorites of Logan(well..they’re all his favorite but what can you do). The college professor is smiling in his black polo and khakis(and the tie. Of course the tie) and it was a real moment, an expression of happiness from a normally seemingly impassive man. Virgil is sure, though, that what most people are focusing on as Joan holds the picture up for the world to see is the opposite of what Virgil sees– a surprisingly normal man, nothing special.  
Joan, thankfully, isn’t stupid, and congratulates Virgil on the fiance, who would gladly fight anyone who talked bad– or anything less than perfect really– about his nerd. On his way home in a cab, reading all the disappointed comments from his fans about how they expected “more,” he tweets,  
 _Anyone who succumbs to the stereotypes of mainstream media and judges people based on appearance– or the appearance of the person they love– good bye, I don’t want you coming to my concerts or buying my merch, assholes._  
But when he gets home, Logan is there(he didn’t have classes that day) and calms him down, reminding him of all the fans who are being more awesome. “I think some of the comments actually exceed expectations–” “No. No, we are at home, you don’t get to use teacher language.”  
***  
Tomorrow Virgil wakes up and feels so grateful for his fiance, who always helps him find the honest side, which is, yes, often the bright side, of things. Life is good. He stops by Starbucks and grabs the teacher a pumpkin spice latte, planning to drop by Logan’s classroom in general appreciation.  
Needless to say, the students(those who weren’t fans and hadn’t seen yesterday’s interview, anyway) were quite in shock when an all-out punk rocker came strolling in during a talk about astronomical culture. “Oh, sorry,” the tattooed guy with the three lip piercings says, “I didn’t mean to interrupt a class, but I brought you a latte,” and many kids identifying him as the leader of the Storm Clouds band are close to fainting in shock when he kisses Professor Sanders on the cheek.  
“Yes, you could have thought that out a bit more,” smiles Logan, “but I appreciate it.” He notices the distracted class and snaps his fingers. “Let’s–”  
“No,” calls a particularly opinionated kid, “don’t you dare make us finish the lesson, I wanna know about your boyfriend!”  
“Fiance,” corrects Logan, sighing inwardly as he realizes class might as well be over. “Okay, you can ask him a few questions.” The rest of the lesson– and all of next week’s classes– all the students are freaking out about how they never knew how “cool” their teacher really was(they had always loved him to be honest, he was quite the good teacher.)  
And Virgil and Logan enjoy laughing at everyone’s reactions– fans, students, most everyone is actually really accepting, even if at the same time still in shock. They’re content, in spite of all the excitement surrounding them, to have a small wedding not covered by media– some things should get to remain private, especially what happened _after_ the wedding.  
(No, you fools, nothing inappropriate, they literally just went out and bought a cat. Its name is Elliott Crofters Latte the Third and they didn’t want a kitten to have cameras shoved in it’s face. They’re two asexual dorks and it would not behoove you to think otherwise.)  
The End


	4. Sunsets (platonic moxiety)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sad...it'll be okay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again written for @sanderssidesspook prompts from october over on tumblr (which is where I'm copying and pasting all of these from, no I did not write an october event's prompt in march :)) the prompt was "sunsets in sweaters"

“You actually wear that thing?”  
Patton smiled as he sat down beside Virgil on the roof, pulling his cat hoodie’s grey sleeves down over his hands in the slight chill. “It’s cozy!”  
“Sweaters are pretty great,” Virgil agreed, staring out at the setting sun.  
They sat in quiet. The sky didn’t need them to talk; so they didn’t.  
And it was a glorious sky, all blue and creamy orange with drifting purple. The sun dusted its rays across the clouds and the tops of trees below. It really did practically encourage the thinking of deep thoughts.  
“I…” Patton trailed off, leaving the word hanging in the air, unable to fall since Virgil’s attention was caught now on the fatherly trait in concern.  
Patton looked over, and then sighed and dropped his head onto his arms. “I don’t know,” he said, muffled. “I’m sad.”  
Virgil hesitantly scooted closer, pressing himself against Patton. “Okay,” he said, and didn’t say anything else, because support can be enough even if it doesn’t come with perfect understanding.  
The sun was now allowing long shadows to stretch out for the first time all day, and Virgil closed his eyes and breathed in the glow of twilight. The autumn air gave a sense of peace, and he felt his thoughts all catch up to each other in a way they had not done for quite a while.  
Patton suddenly shifted so that he was laying against the slope of tiles, gazing up at the darkening sky. He took Virgil’s hand, who leaned back beside him.  
“I don’t know why I’m sad, but I know that I’m going to be okay. But I’m still sad. Is that wrong?”  
Virgil thought for a second. He looked up at the few twinkling stars beginning to emerge. “What…what do you think?”  
Patton blinked slowly. “Oh, um…”  
They spent a moment of silence together before it slipped away as Patton murmured, “That it’s okay. That it’s okay that I’m not okay.”  
“Maybe,” said Virgil, turning his head to look at Pat as the atmosphere tingled with the coming of dusk, “maybe you should trust yourself on that one.”  
Patton smiled. It was small, but it wasn’t artificial. He snuggled deeper into his sweater, comforted by the soft fabric and Virgil holding his hand.  
“And I know it sucks when you’re not doing great, but I’m here.”  
A deep indigo was turned the sky into a calming ombre. They stayed there until the indigo spread its darker edges along the farthest reach of cerulean, until the sky was full of hopeful stars and the occasional planet, until night had fully taken over from the half-light state that was whispering fall.  
Until Logan and Roman, with a rarely shared smile, collected the sleeping sides into their arms and put them safely in bed. And the mindscape was filled with drifting thoughts of sweaters and sunsets.


	5. Wings (logan hurt/comfort)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan hasn't ever really...created anything before. Not like Roman does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I saw a fanart of Lo with wings once...I adore the idea  
> Deceit cameo

Logan was ready to throw his laptop at the wall.

It had been through worse, in any case. He supposed throwing it at Thomas hadn’t been the most logical idea, especially factoring in the angles of– well, basically, it hit the floor fairly hard, leaving a lasting dent.

But that was months ago. _Think. You need to get this done._ Why wasn’t it working?! That reading was– Logan flashes back to his flashcards(no that was _not_ a dad joke thank you very much)– ‘cray-cray’. Something was wrong.

A few calculations and three cups of coffee later, Logan stopped dead. It was there all along– _Roman._ Only he could mess up something so inevitably and infallingly. It had to be his creative “powers,” if you will, that were interfering with the energy levels.

It all made sense now. And this was how Logan worked– going through things over and over, over complicating everything and focusing on every detail, checking work, until finally the answer came to him as a burst of fresh air, sometimes with seemingly no connection to what he had just been attempting to work through.

Now the answer was clear, however. But why was the reading now fluctuating at alarming levels?

The first thought that came to his mind was “ _it’s trying to escape._ ”

Don’t be silly, Logan. That is obviously the most illogical answer you could come up with.

 _Good thing the others refuse to listen to me, at least it means they don’t know on the rare occasions that I happen to be wrong._ Logan brushed the thought aside, instead contemplating the situation.

But maybe…maybe that was the answer. Roman was made of the illogical, the seemingly crazy. Perhaps his creativity was actually trapped and attempting to escape.

This wasn’t all of his power, of course. Only an infinitesimal– hah– amount.

Except the instruments around him showed the level was growing. This was odd. His experiments had never gone this curiously before.

Pause. Wait.

If he stopped it before Roman noticed…

The power would be his.

 _That sounds ominous_ , Logan chided himself. _You are not an evil mastermind. However much you wish you were_. But he could create anything with this– as long as it was small enough for Roman to not notice, of course. The sparking creativity seeping and flashing into the air had already helped him figure out the issue in the first place, he was sure. A tingle of excitement made its way through him. Truth be told, he had always wondered what it would be like to have the ability to conjure anything he wished– books– new dry erase pens– anything he would need for his experiments(such as this one). Of course, they could all bend things to some extent, like their own appearance, room decor, et cetera…but still.

Logan’s breath caught. He could give himself wings.

Something small, he reminded himself. Small. And then figure out a way to get everything back to normal(bar whatever he had created– _created– he could create, even Logic could be creative for once, this was amazing!_ )

If this was even the situation…

So he concentrated. And _there_. He could tap into it. It surrounded him. Everywhere in the room. Concentrate, focus, create….one of those rubix cube keychains he’d always loved. Yes, that should be satisfactory. And then he could release the remaining energy and everything will be perfect. Well, maybe not, but he’d have had a taste of what being creative is like.

-~-~-~-~-

Logan stared at himself in the mirror. He smiled.

So he might have used a bit more power than originally anticipated.

But wings.

He’d always loved the idea of having wings; he wasn’t sure why. The fact of having them? The prospect of flight?

They were gorgeous. Dark– no, _deep_ blue. Feathers, of course. He could actually be able to fly with these. A shudder of adrenaline and pure, floating happiness rushed through him(oh no, feelings, don’t tell Patton). For a second he considered flying. But as he stared into the mirror, he realized what he loved about this is the feeling of being _unique_ , and not the unique parents prefer to call their kids. He knew he was more of an annoying emotionless know-it-all than anything. But now he could be unique in a…good way. Maybe.

 _Tug_. They were being summoned, apparently.

Now Logan felt fear; excellent, even more feelings. How was he going to hide them? Obviously, he must not show or tell the others. He thought for a second– brushed his fingers just barely against the edge of one– for the first time relied on pure will to get something done.

Now he couldn’t see them; when he ran his fingers through the air he only sensed a disturbance; nothing more. He knew they were there, however, and he tucked them against his back, pressed as close to him as possible just in case. The feeling of them against his back(oh, and his shirt now had two precise slits that fit them perfectly) was comforting, almost; he sank downstairs, after taking two minutes to clean up his original experiment’s supplies, with a steady mind.

“Oh, hey, Logan!” Thomas greeted him, as Patton squealed with delight at seeing him(Roman and Virgil were rather preoccupied with an argument about something insignificant).

“Guys– we should get back to the actual topic, now, please?” Thomas interrupted. “Though for the record, I liked both Hermiones equally.”

“But Senior Year was the best of the musicals anyway!” Roman protested.

“Listen to Thomas, kiddos! Let’s get back to Virgil’s idea of making a pro-con list to decide what theme Talyn’s party will be. Roman, could you get us some paper and pens? Maybe we could pass around the lists and each add on our own things!” Patton clapped his hands together, and Roman raised his, summoning…nothing.

Oh dear.

“Any day now, Princey” –coming from Virgil, of course.

“I– can’t– do it!” Roman closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. “I can’t conjure them!”

“Well, _pro_ and behold, this has really put a damper _con_ things,” Patton grinned, and there was a collective wince.

“There’s been a warp,” Roman muttered to himself.

“A what?” Virgil asked from his corner.

“I can’t tap into my creative energy.”

Logan froze. His heart raced faster than he would deem healthy, which he would have noticed and hurried to resolve if that was what he had been focusing on.

“Maybe you just need a hug to help you get going!” cheered Patton.

“Oh– no, that’s quite all right.”

Patton looked disappointed. “Oh…okay. So…why _can’t_ you–”

Roman actually started to pace. “Imagine a– a lake. That’s my power and creativity. And every time I use it, it’s as if I threw in a small pebble.”

Patton gasped. “Like that puppy I named Pebbles!”

Roman paused. “Oh…well, except an actual pebble. Except that’s only if I use it for something small, like conjuring up paper and pens. And if I do something _big_ , it’s as if I threw a huge stone in instead. I can’t do anything else until the ripples, the aftereffect of using the energy, have disappeared, so if I do something small it’s not a big deal, but if I use more of the energy it takes longer until I can access it again.”

Virgil, Patton, and Thomas were nodding along; Logan cursed himself for not considering and factoring in any effects before he had used the energy.

“But I just don’t get it!” Roman cried out in frustration. “I don’t know what would have caused that! I certainly didn’t!” He dramatized these words even more with hand gesticulations worthy of Broadway. Everyone else shifted back a bit, wary of Roman in these moods. Patton like to call it his “dramatic tantrum of bitterly glittery emotions,” though Logan had to admit(and he was sure that Virgil felt the same) that Patton’s words were an accurate description of Roman all the time, but oh well.

A sharp intake of breath; whose, Logan wasn’t quite sure.

“Hello. Having fun, I see,” Deceit smirked.

“Leave,” two people said at once. Roman and…Virgil? Patton didn’t seem to be capable of saying anything– I don’t think he’s okay, thought Logan.

Roman glared at everyone, aiming his mood for the most part at the unwelcome scaly visitor, but also at the three other sides, because if Deceit was here it meant one of them was lying. Lies, lies, lies. Virgil was grabbing Patton’s arm and Thomas was staring in shocked frustration and Roman was trying to get his power to work and Logan was is standing with his wings hidden, lying, watching a storm of confusion swirl around with himself trapped in the eye, in the deadly calm.

Ten minutes more passed of senseless arguments with Deceit, trying to get him to leave, leave them be, you are not welcome here, and it’s almost amusing to watch, except no one was quite amused.

Roman suddenly tied everything together all at once with a “ _What_ is going on?” Practically a growl.

“Why don’t you ask Logan?” grinned Deceit.

No one moved.

Roman turned his head to look at Logan, his head tilted, uncertainly for once. Unspoken, but somehow Logan could hear the question on everyone’s lips, even if not one of them could put it into words. They were going to judge him. He wouldn’t be taken seriously ever again, even with his necktie– not that he usually was anyway.

That was just cognitive distortions. They would understand. Just show them.

He turned, shy almost, and reached behind him to run his hand along his wings, letting them be seen. He didn’t notice a tear had trickled down his cheek until he tasted it on his lip. Why are you crying?

Patton gasped, and now he was crying too, oh no oh no, Patton is crying, and Roman made a shocked cry, and Virgil stepped forward and brushed his hand along the feathers, causing slight shivers along the wings, though that may have just been Logan’s fear at its spiked peak.

“They’re so _beautiful_ ,” sobbed Patton, reaching to hug Logan. “I _love_ them.”

“You’re crying,” Logan whispered, at the same time amazed that he could speak and cursing himself for stating the obvious, what an idiotic thing to do, “I’m crying because you’re crying, I don’t like when people are sad!” yelped Patton.

“Just make them purple and they’ll be fine,” Virgil smirked. “Maybe with some black ombre around the edges…Or I could just get some of my own. Princey!” He snapped his fingers. “Get me some wings.”

Roman seemed to be a bit…in shock. He didn’t appear to be capable of doing anything other than staring and making offended Princey noises, and Logan knew he should be feeling something right now, but emotions have never been his forte, so he wasn’t quite sure what the sick feeling in his stomach was. Guilt, perhaps. Maybe tinged with annoyance, even– why can’t Roman just speak?

Finally he does. “You– you took my power!” he gasped, moving his hysterical gaze between everyone. “He took it! How did he do that? Thomas, make him give it back!” This is even accompanied by a foot stomp.

“Apologies,” choked out Logan, who held no doubt that he messed up, messed up, messed up–

Roman, it appeared for the first time, finally registered how upset the logical side is, and breathed out, “They _are_ sorta cool..” This supposedly in an attempt to make Logan stop crying, who wholeheartedly wished that Roman was succeeding, _stop freaking crying Logan_ , and he sank down and slipped into Roman’s kingdom through the prince’s room, barely noticing the dozens– literally– of Disney posters that normally made him uncomfortable in the haphazard way they littered the walls. A cool, dark forest seemed to beckon and Logan sighed with relief at the dim light and the soothing feeling of bark against skin, as he leaned into a tree and takes deep breathes.

The word _illogical_ , which had been playing in his mind over and over for quite some time now, was coming to a slow. He was okay. For now. In this moment, the forest was welcoming him.

But he’d come back. Because (even though Patton might call everyone his kiddo) Logan knew his famILY loved him. It was the only logical explanation…cringy as it may be. He was going to come back and Roman was going to glare and be awed at the same time(the wings  _are_ pretty gorgeous) and Patton was going hug him a million times over(Logan, and Virgil, were not completely sure Patton’s hugs aren’t just his preferred method of suffocation) and Deceit was going to pop up, flip him off, and sink back down again(what an evil dork) and Virgil was going to call him a nerd but watch his future experiments with close intensity(explosions are cool) and Thomas was going to smile and be Thomas(just, Thomas, okay?!) and it was all going to be okay.

And maybe he’d figure out a way to fly..

No, that was just illogical(…………or was it).

He actually almost smiled(stopping himself just in time, because _that’s quite enough emotion for one day_ ) and started to walk back, a bit reluctantly but with a purpose now, a logical purpose, comforting logic. He did owe an apology and perhaps an explanation(and now that he knew what messed it up the first time, he had an experiment to finish).


	6. More untitled lo angst/resolve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (notes also copied from tumblr)  
>  Inspiration from @dailypattondoodle's Logan angst prompts  
> Warnings: loneliness, themes of self-destruction, crying, drowning(as a metaphor), let me know if there should be others
> 
> A couple of the italics parts use dialogue from the Behind the Scenes argument/LNTAO, btw. Enjoy this mess..and here I thought I would get good sleep tonight..but no, I stayed up writing angst. Fun times *finger guns* happy with this thou

The couch had been there for years, and though it wasn’t physically worn, just by looking at it you could tell it had been used and loved and held glimpses of souls within its corduroy folds.

When Logan shifted into it and pulled his blanket closer around him, the effect wasn’t lost on him. He breathed in. Out. He started to feel less alone.

The couch had been there for years, and so had he. His worn, tired eyes showed his worn, tired soul, and he had no emotional depths to show for it. The memories he held were ones of fact that he could feed to Thomas when required. The love he had been given had slid away like water on a duck’s wings. A duck that was tired of being a duck.

That’s what it all came back to. Being tired. That’s why he was on the couch. Trying to sleep is hard when you’re lonely. You just get more and more tired and your wings don’t let you sleep.

Okay, he definitely needed sleep. His brain was every which way. Mixes of metaphors, souls in couches. Thoughts and feelings and feelings and feelings.

He curled into himself under the blanket. Breathe. In. Out.

In the morning when he woke up, the other Sides were already awake, he could hear them in the kitchen, but the loneliness was back.

***

Logan found himself on the couch at night more and more. Patton noticed. Logan could tell that Patton could tell. Logan wondered if Patton could tell that Logan could tell that–

The tiredness had come back with the loneliness, could you tell?

He thought of how if Patton was struggling, he probably wouldn’t notice. Patton had struggled in the past and he hadn’t noticed then. He shuddered and wrapped his arms around himself, trying to squeeze the disgusting out.

But it just curled up at the bottom of his stomach and when Patton appeared with a cheery good morning he shouldered past the moral side roughly.

***

_I was lost once too._

Logan had trailed his fingers along the sticky edge of antagonism, but before he could wash his hands he had to pull free to get to the sink.

The more he pulled the more frustrated he got and the frustration pulled him deeper in. The frustration tugged at his bones and he liked to think he hadn’t fought it only because he couldn’t reach a sword, because the glue of power had him trapped on the other side of the room from the sword, from the means to fight it back. He liked to think this because it was true. He congratulated himself on finding a way to believe the truth while simultaneously ignoring the fact that it was truth because he had allowed it to be so.

***

When Roman whirled around one day and spontaneously gave him a hug, Logan felt like he was drowning in air. He felt like he was gasping for breath, and the breath was reaching him, and he was breathing, _in, out,_ but the air wouldn’t let him go, _in, out, in,_ he had to fight it, _out, out, out,_ he held his breath against the silky sash and blinked away the tears that threatened to drown him before he could do it himself.

_Why did he have to drown?_

His mind was a broken record. It caught and it stuttered. Over and over. _Drown. Drown. Drown._ He couldn’t get out. _Out. Out. Out. In. Out. In. Out._ He breathed and marveled at the fact that his mind didn’t catch on it. He felt free. Maybe the secret had been all along to just turn the record off.

***

The bed had been there for a portion of the time as the couch. It held no record player within its depths, no emotions to get caught on and _st-st-stutter. Wow. Uh. Th– wow. Th– it would be laughable if it weren’t so pathetic. I– I try. I try. C-c-catch. Frustration– frustration– f-f-frustration._ Logan did not bother to pull his blankets around him. He let himself lie there. He tried to push all thoughts out of his mind. If he did nothing, thought nothing, felt nothing, then nothing would happen.

But nothing felt more clear. Because something did need to happen. He needed to pull himself free. He needed to reach for a sword before his own mind turned him away from the wall on which it hung.

He carefully slid out of bed, stepping onto the floor, stepping into the hallway, finding himself at Roman’s door, wondering if finding himself was worth it or if it was easier to stay lost. To stop the record from playing.

But Roman hugged him again, and told him that it was okay, that it’s okay for things to be wrong, and Logan shuddered and wrapped his arms around Roman, trying to squeeze the pain out. But it just curled up at the bottom of his stomach, and when Roman searched his face he tried to hide the tears that were now pouring out of him.

But when the tears came this time they weren’t trying to drown him.

***

His brain was short-circuiting. Overloading. He had so many thoughts and feelings and feelings and feelings. They all mixed together to form a new color that he found he couldn’t explain, and this short-circuited him and Virgil tried to pull him out of the water but this time the drowning was something he wanted to get out of but didn’t know how, but Virgil knew how and Virgil pulled him out from the panic, and as he curled into himself and _breathe, in, out,_ he whispered a thank you, and the record began to play again and he found he knew how to catch it before it caught itself, how to pause the play before it played to a part he didn’t want to listen to, but he still didn’t know how to slide smoothly past that part without avoiding the act of hitting play again.

***

Deceit would never be able to pretend to be Logan because he didn’t have the beginnings of a lie for Deceit to water and grow. If he had a truth he didn’t want told, he just didn’t talk at all. If he had a song he didn’t want to get caught on, he didn’t hit play. If the black and the white both hurt your eyes and you don’t have the capacity to go morally grey, you close your eyes and you don’t open them again.

***

To keep the water from sliding off of your wings, those twisted wings, you dive fully in. You dive in and find a way not to drown, you find someone that can pull you back out. And you find someone that can reach the sword for you when you know you must cut yourself free but all you want to do in that moment is sink deeper in. And you find someone who will notice, and will teach you how to notice, how to catch the dark before it creeps fully over your eyes, so that you can open them again. How to catch the dark and the water and the glue and not get caught yourself in all your catching. How to carry the use and love and glimpses of soul with you, so that you can learn how to find yourself within yourself, not within a broken record.


	7. Rain (logince)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My goal for this is that when you read it, it feels like taking a breath.  
> Logan-centric, fluff

Logan wasn’t often one to feel overwhelmed; he usually had everything under control. However, today he was feeling a bit…drained, you might say, and he stared out the window above his desk, listening to the rain, ready to have a cup of tea and read for a bit but fully aware he had no time for that.  
What he also didn’t have time for was Roman, but soon enough the dramatic trait was knocking on his door; Logan took the opportunity to stretch his legs gladly but was a bit hesitant on opening the door. Stupid Roman and his stupid, beautiful face always managed to get the logical side to cave and be dragged off on an adventure, which simply could not fit into Logan’s schedule tonight.  
Thankfully, Roman was just holding a latte. “Remy mentioned you might need this,” he said, leaning inside the room as Logan took the cup gratefully.  
“Thank you.”  
“No problemo, teach. Hey, can I see what you’re working on?”  
Logan frowned. “It’s just the schedule, and I need to get back to work.”  
“I thought you finished the schedule.”  
“Only this week and next’s. I barely have vague outlines for next month and–”  
“Woah there,” Roman laughed. “Um, I think you can take a break. You’ve done enough for now, alright?”  
“I don’t think I have the time–” Logan sighed as Roman grabbed his hand, and let himself be led into the hallway.  
“Lo.” Roman looked into his eyes, and Logan shifted uncomfortably. “Let’s go for a walk.”  
“In the Imagination? I highly doubt spending time in your realm will help my mind stay logical and productive, which is necessary to accomplish this work.”  
“No, silly,” Roman laughed. “Outside!”  
Logan froze. Outside the House was a strange part of the mindscape. It didn’t seem to follow reality the way the House did, and they hadn’t found the limits of it yet– all they knew was that it trailed into the Subconscious eventually.  
But Roman was already heading excitedly down the stairs, and Logan thought, to hell with it, and followed.  
They slipped out the door and Logan’s glasses immediately started fogging up. It was an absolute downpour, and he was shivering until Roman conjured two cloak-style fabrics and wrapped one around him. “Thanks,” Logan breathed, leaning into the creative side, aware of his muscles relaxing as the rain came down around them and fresh air entered his lungs.  
They walked, following a random sidewalk, the rain somehow parting around them, mist giving an almost magical quality to the air; eventually Logan looked down and noticed the sidewalk had shifted to a dirt trail. They walked and Logan felt his racing thoughts slow down a bit and let the sound of the rain fill his mind. They walked and everything felt still and peaceful and when the path ended at a cove of aspens, they stopped walking and sat on the blessedly dry dirt, and just…breathed for a bit.  
Roman snapped his fingers and gave a smile as he handed Logan a book, a copy of Sherlock Holmes volume 1, and Logan curled into him and started reading out loud; they spent half an hour there, Logan’s voice getting softer and softer, a deep red cloak wrapped around them both now, and the rain came to a light drizzle, and they slowly got up and started heading back.  
“I suppose you’ll be getting back to work now?” Roman asked, his eyebrow raised as they paused at the door leading inside.  
“I mean…” Logan thought for a moment, and then, still holding Roman’s hand, headed inside and to the couch. “Maybe I could take a bit more of a break.” He yawned, and Roman grinned his infuriatingly adorable grin and called, “Patton! Virgil!”  
The other two sides came to the living room with curious looks, and Roman pulled them all onto the couch. “We’re going to cuddle now,” he announced, and Virgil groaned but they all spent the rest of the night together, feeling like everything was pretty alright.


	8. They're Alright, He's Alright (Logan fluff-ish)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan listens to WTNV (obviously)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (notes copied from tumblr):
> 
> So I was listening to WTNV episode 48 the other day
> 
> Warning: cursing, caps lock

Logan shot up from his dark indigo bed covers. _YES YES YES YES YES._

The weather started to play as he skidded downstairs, ipod in hand, sliding into the kitchen counter and staying there for a few seconds with eyes closed as he felt the sweet damn relief well up inside of him. “ _FUCK YES,_ ” the logical side shouted, now feeling out of breath.

“Uhm, kiddo?” Patton said, in the entryway of the kitchen. Logan started to laugh. Did the others think he was crazy? Probably. Did he care? No. All he cared about right now was Night Vale. Night Vale, and Cecil, and everything was ok, and–

“ _Earth to nerd._ ” Roman snapped his fingers in front of Logan’s face. “What’s going on?”

“They’re okay!” Logan tried to lower his volume but it wasn’t working. “They’re okay they

re okay and Lauren and Kevin stupid Kevin are, like, gone from the studio and ahhh, when it happened, just, it was so perfect, and they were like ‘who the fuck is standing in the doorway’ and it was fucking Cecil and he was back and he’s back and–”

Roman caught his arms. “Woah, woah woah is this some show or something?”

“And _he was holding a cat and I just can’t I’m so_ –” He let his energy take him to the couch, falling into it and screaming into one of the bright teal pillows. His remaining earbud fell out and he jammed it back in, and it felt like the song was sharing in his happiness and he started to calm down.

Logan looked up to see the three other main sides staring at him, and he knew his face was completely red, and then he remembered how Roman hadn’t even recognized the names in Logan’s ramble from being from Welcome to Night Vale even though he had talked about them before and he curled in on himself. He started to laugh again, feeling so much emotion. This ocean wave that came crashing through him, that no words could help, was rare for him.

**Listeners, it is _good_ to be back.**


End file.
